Washing the Car, Sort Of
by Jeune Ecrivain
Summary: Threeshot. Miley, Oliver, and Lily are now 16. When Jackson blackmails Miley into washing his car, Oliver comes to help. As things turn playful, Miley and Oliver prove to be more of a distraction to each other than a help.
1. Chapter 1

**Washing the Car…Sort Of**

**By Jeune Ecrivain**

**Rating: K+**

**Genre: Romance/Humor (Oliver/Miley)**

**Summary: Miley, Oliver, and Lily are now 16. When Jackson blackmails Miley into washing his car, Oliver comes to help. As things turn playful, Miley and Oliver prove to be more of a distraction to each other than a help.**

"I can't believe Jackson caught me!"

16-year-old Oliver Oken gave his best friend, Miley Stewart, an amused smile. "Well, it was only the premiere of a big-time Leo DiCaprio movie," he observed sarcastically. "What'd you expect? Where there's Leo, there's girls, and where there's girls…"

"…there's Jackson," Miley finished for him wryly. "I should've known he'd blackmail me the moment I found him there with that despicable smirk on his face." She remembered her brother's expression all too well. She had snuck out to go to the premiere of the latest romantic comedy, despite her father's adamant orders to stay home and study the algebra that had been giving her particular trouble recently. She had been having a good time under the guise of her pop-star secret identity, Hannah Montana, until, just her luck, she and her brother had locked eyes across the crowded entry hall of the luxury theatre.

Now, Miley stood before her brother's Impala convertible in overalls and a tank top, clutching a large, soapy towel in one hand and a hose in the other. This was the price of Jackson's silence: to make his rather dirty Impala "shine like new," as he had put it.

"Hey, I tried to warn you," Oliver reminded her good-naturedly.

"Yeah, you did," conceded Miley. "Which only makes it all the kinder of you to stick around and help me out. You're really sweet, sometimes. You know that?"

"Thanks, Miles," Oliver replied as he scrubbed hard at a mystery stain on the driver's door. "I was just bored, I guess," he shrugged. "Plus, it is absolutely scorching today, so I'm game for pretty much anything that involves water."

Miley let out a small giggle, which quickly faded as she found herself struggling with a particularly stubborn bird-poop stain. "I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd say Jackson got his car especially dirty for just an occasion like this!" she said dryly. "Makes me feel so special!" she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Oliver laughed. "Psychic brother, heh?"

Miley smiled. Satisfied that she had soaped-up the avian excrement enough, she turned on her hose and began spraying it. She breathed a sigh of relief as the water washed it away. Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, she ran the spray of water along the side of the car, intending to work her way to the front and give the hood an initial rinse-off.

Meanwhile, Oliver was also satisfied with how soaped up the mystery stain was and looked around for his own hose. He found it about two or feet in front of him, approached it, and bent down to pick it up.

Unfortunately for him, he stood back up at the exact moment Miley made it past the windshield with her hose. Miley gasped and turned off the hose to find her best friend standing on the other side of the car, drenched from the abdomen up. "Oops!" she said, trying her best not to laugh. "Sorry, Oliver."

Oliver let a spurt of water out of his mouth and looked at her. Miley was doing her best to look innocent, but Oliver knew better. Although it was an accident, it might as well have been deliberate, because he could tell Miley was laughing her head off internally. "It's okay," he said resignedly. "Go ahead and laugh. We both know you want to."

Miley wasted little time in giggling out loud at the sight. He just looked so pathetic standing there, soaking wet. His seeming nonchalance about the whole thing made it all the more comedic.

Oliver gave her a wry smile. "Just remember something, Miles," he said.

"What's that?" she replied, still chuckling softly. Before she knew it, however, a straight-on torrent of water hit her straight in the face. She yelped, and in an instant, she found herself just as soaked as Oliver, standing there in shock as he looked back at her with hose in hand and a broad grin on his face. Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, no you didn't," she seethed, and Oliver knew the game was on.

The two eyed each other, hose spickets cocked like pistols, and proceeded to lean with lightning speed from side to side, dodging each other's attempted attacks. Miley faked a move to the right and caught Oliver square in the face when he dodged to the left. "Big mistake, missy," he said before taking off after her.

Miley ran off, giggling all the way, with Oliver in hot pursuit. She yelped once more as she felt a wave of water strike her back and neck. She looked over her shoulder, then turned her abdomen and ran sideways long enough to shout at him, "I'm going to put out your smoke, Smokin' Oken!" She shot a jet of water at him that struck him firmly on the chest before turning to run straight around the side of her Malibu home and onto the beach in her backyard. Their very long hoses trailed behind them.

The two continued to chase each other around the beach, exchanging well-aimed pot-shots as well as somewhat more sustained torrents in what would've looked to an outside observer like a sort of watery gun battle. At last, Oliver caught up with Miley and tackled her to the sandy ground. The two rolled around in the sand, squirting each other vehemently until their zeal slowly died down into a simple giggle-fest. Miley stayed where she had landed, straddling Oliver and playfully touching her nose to his as if silently challenging him. Staring defiantly into each other's eyes, their giggling dwindled into a sort of daze as they realized the position they were in. Soaking wet and panting, they took a moment to take in the sight of the other, the unprecedented proximity allowing a new depth of visual exploration. Almost as if it were second nature, Oliver reached up and gently tucked a lock of dripping-wet hair behind her ear. Perhaps incited by this gesture, Miley's head lowered towards his seemingly of its own volition. Oliver lifted his own head slightly as well. Only half-aware of their actions, they drew closer until, before she knew what she was doing, Miley kissed Oliver softly yet firmly on the lips.

The kiss lingered for a few seconds before she withdrew, but she had only pulled back a millimeter before Oliver brought his lips to hers as if returning a kind gesture. They parted momentarily, their eyes fluttering open slightly, before they were drawn into another kiss. The third kiss was a little more daring than the first two, and it lasted significantly longer as well. They parted for a second. Now completely aware of what they were doing but for the moment not caring about the implications, they promptly initiated a fourth kiss. Miley parted her lips to deepen it, and Oliver gladly followed her lead. He wrapped his arms around her waist and, breaking the kiss for only an instant, rolled her over so that he was now on top. Miley cupped his cheeks in her hands and resumed kissing him, parting her lips for a deeper kiss almost immediately this time.

As they continued to lock lips, a great sensation of pleasure, comfort, and safety washed over Miley. Meanwhile, Oliver was experiencing a similar feeling. Both of them felt as if a floodgate had been opened in their minds and hearts, letting subconscious desires they'd never known they had flow into their consciousness. Each kiss grew longer and more passionate. A soft moan escaped Miley's lips as Oliver kissed her gently yet fervently.

Finally, they broke apart long enough to open their eyes and catch each other's gaze. Panting once again, this time from massaging each other's lips with their own, they stared at each other in awe of what had just transpired. "Miley,…" Oliver squeaked huskily, "what was that?"

Miley shook her head. "I don't know," she replied softly. "But…I liked it," she added with a blush.

Oliver responded with a blush of his own. "Me too," he admitted sheepishly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Washing the Car…Sort Of**

**By Jeune Ecrivain**

**Rating: T  
**

**Genre: Romance/Humor (Oliver/Miley)**

**Summary: Miley, Oliver, and Lily are now 16. When Jackson blackmails Miley into washing his car, Oliver comes to help. As things turn playful, Miley and Oliver prove to be more of a distraction to each other than a help.**

**A/N: As a precaution, I'm taking the rating up to a T. There's no sex, violence, foul language, or even any really mature themes. There's just some REALLY hot-and-heavy kissing, or at least it's the most heated make-out session I've ever written (it's certainly the most descriptive). As a hopeless romantic, I get a certain pleasure out of writing this that is quite possibly a microcosm of what I might feel if I were in Oliver's place (strictly in a hypothetical sense, since I am four years older than Miley is in this story). Let me know if you still think it's K+.**

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver and Miley were putting the finishing touches on Jackson's now-shiny Impala. A short while ago, they had been engaged in a kissing session of unprecedented intensity for both of them, but the delayed reaction of awkwardness and self-consciousness had since set in quite suddenly. Oliver had nervously suggested that they finish washing the car, and Miley had nodded before getting up to walk back towards the garage. Oliver had followed behind her in a daze, and the rest was a bit of a blur for the two of them. They each wondered the same thing: _Where did THAT come from?_ They'd been best friends for as long as they could remember. The only times they'd ever thought of each other in an even remotely romantic or sexual context, it had always been half-serious at best. Now, an indefinable something about that moment on the beach had burst their platonic bubble. The rush of feelings that now left them bewildered and perplexed was anything but best-friend material.

After giving the car a final rinse, Oliver wiped the sweat off his forehead and, perhaps for the first time since the beach incident, dared to look straight at Miley. She caught his gaze and looked at him furtively. "All that work has made me thirsty!" she said in an effort to ease the awkwardness. "Wanna come in for soda?"

"Sure," Oliver replied, doing his best to maintain a casual façade.

Miley smiled and led him into her house through the rear entrance in the garage. The silence continued, with both of them still in deep thought, as they arrived in the kitchen. "What'll you have?" she uttered while opening the refrigerator.

"Sprite," Oliver answered.

"Great minds think alike," she smirked as she pulled out two cans of the classic lemon-lime soda and tossed one to her companion, who caught it almost effortlessly.

Silence resumed long enough for the sound of the two cans being opened to remind them of that proverbial pin dropping. They began casually sipping their Sprite, still trying and failing to make sense of it all. Between the furtive glances, they wondered if it had just been the heat of the moment or if it really meant something. If it was the latter for one, what if it was the former for the other? What would it do to their friendship? Were they s'posed to become a couple now? Finally, they couldn't take the suspense any longer.

"Miley, I…" Oliver began.

"Oliver, listen…" started Miley at the exact same time.

"You first," they both said almost in perfect sync. Despite the gravity of the situation, they chuckled to themselves and at each other.

"I guess I'll take the dive," Miley said quietly, biting her lip for a moment in hesitation. "What happened out there?" she finally managed to say.

"We…uh…kissed."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" Miley's tone was colored with good-natured sarcasm.

"I like the obvious," Oliver retorted. "It's simple."

"Unlike this?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Where did all that passion come from?" Miley wondered aloud, a little intimidated by the fact that "passion" was the closest word she could think of to describe what she had felt on the beach.

Oliver ran a hand through his hair. "I dunno. It was scary, but it was kinda thrilling, too." He blushed slightly at his own words.

Miley found herself blushing too. "That's what makes it kinda scary: the fact that we actually enjoyed it." She pursed her lips. "Oliver, when I told you the truth about Hannah Montana and I asked you if you still felt anything for me, did you mean it when you said no?"

Oliver paused. "I thought I did," he answered.

Miley swallowed at his use of the past tense. "And now?"

"Now, I'm not sure," he said, "but whatever I feel now, I don't think it's the same as what I felt yesterday. Something's changed."

"Yeah," Miley agreed. "It feels like that to me too. What I don't get is why we didn't see this coming, whatever it is. It just hit us all of a sudden. One minute we were best friends just goofing off, the next minute we were…kissing." She sighed. "The way you rolled me over, it was so gentle but so manly at the same time. I've never seen that side of you, Oliver."

Oliver blushed. "It's a side you like, I hope," he said as he started thinking about that moment when he had repositioned himself on top of her. The memory fueled his desire to relive the sensation of holding her so close and tasting her soft lips on his.

"It's a side I wouldn't mind seeing more of," she replied almost at a whisper, blushing furiously and hardly believing the audacity of her own words.

Suddenly, Miley had never looked so alluring to Oliver. He set his can of Sprite down on the counter and let his feet practically guide him towards her. "I hope I know what I'm doing," he said half to himself and half to her. His eyes fell on her lips, and he gripped her gently around the waist. He took a moment to look into her eyes, which seemed to read as clear as day "I don't know where this will lead…but go for it!"

That was all the encouragement Oliver needed. He leaned in and promptly pressed his lips to hers. Miley responded instantly. Putting her own drink down and wrapping here arms around his neck, she kissed him back zealously. They parted momentarily before Miley interlocked her parted lips with his once more. They continued kissing each other hungrily, no sooner ending one liplock than initiating another. There was nothing shy about their kisses anymore. Each kiss was gentle yet passionate. Miley used both lips to massage Oliver's lower lip while he did the same to her upper lip. They then broke apart for a second and switched. Oliver gathered Miley up in his arms and hoisted her up onto the counter, never pausing their kissing streak. A few more lip-to-lip kisses followed, and then they trailed a few kisses down each other's cheeks and necks before coming to rest with their heads on each other's shoulders.

"Wow!" said Miley breathlessly.

"I know!" replied Oliver, equally as breathless. "Best friends don't do this! Best friends don't try to practically suck each other's lips off!" Miley giggled, which made him grin. "But we're not exactly best friends anymore, are we?"

She sighed contentedly. "That ship has sailed," she answered. "It left about 20 minutes ago on the beach." Her voice turned serious. "You do realize we're taking a big risk here?"

Oliver paused thoughtfully, knowing she was referring to their friendship, but soon smiled and nodded. "Yeah," he admitted. "But you're worth it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Washing the Car…Sort Of**

**By Jeune Ecrivain**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Romance/Humor (Oliver/Miley)**

**Summary: Miley, Oliver, and Lily are now 16. When Jackson blackmails Miley into washing his car, Oliver comes to help. As things turn playful, Miley and Oliver prove to be more of a distraction to each other than a help.**

A half an hour, Miley and Oliver lay on the living room couch, trying to let all the implications of what had just happened sink in. Having determined that they were both on the same page at least, awkwardness was hardly a problem anymore. Yet they were still somewhat in awe of the dramatic turn their relationship had taken. It was certainly not an unpleasant awe, however. Oliver looked up at the ceiling with a contemplative smile on his face, occasionally looking fondly at Miley, who lay very contentedly with her head and one hand resting on his chest. He stroked her bare shoulder with his hand, and he was somehow soothed by the soft rise and fall of her chest against his torso. After a moment of looking at her with a gentle smile, he let a soft, "Miley?" escape his lips.

"Hmm?" she responded, a small smile of her own tugging at her lips.

"Do you remember when you were trying to snap me out of my crush on Hannah Montana? You said some stuff about one friend liking another friend and I thought you were talking about you and me."

Miley chuckled a little at the memory. "Yeah."

"You said you did love me, but like a brother or a pet fish."

Miley giggled slightly. "Boy, if only the 14-year-old me could see me now!"

"I was just wondering. Do you have any idea what's different now?"

Miley turned her head to look him in the eye thoughtfully. "I'm not sure," she replied. "Maybe it just never occurred to me that a lot of the things that I love about you as a friend can also make you a great boyfriend. I never interpreted anything I like about you in a romantic way…until now. The truth is…some of the stuff Lily and I tease you about…actually make you quite cute when I really think about it."

Oliver grinned. "Yeah?"

Miley smiled at him, amused by the expression on his face. He looked like a proud little boy who'd just been given a long-awaited prize when he was least expecting it. "Yeah," she said softly.

"Thanks," he said. "You know, I never in my life found you unattractive or even mediocre, but it took me a while to figure out that you're downright beautiful!"

Miley blushed crimson. "Oliver…"

"Especially your eyes," he continued. "You're well into your teens, but very often I can still see your inner child dancing in your big brown eyes. Don't ever lose that, Miles."

Miley's jaw dropped. "Is there an _Everything Being Sweet Book_ somewhere that I don't know about?" (A/N: The _Everything_ book series is an extensive collection of self-learning books with a distinctly fun style to them. I taught myself Italian using _The Everything Learning Italian Book_.)

Oliver grinned. "I guess I just never had anything to say stuff like that about...or rather, I did but I didn't know it."

"Man, if only I'd seen this sweet side of you before!" said Miley. "Don't you dare hold back on me any more!"

"I won't, on one condition."

The undercover teen diva cocked an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"We hold off on telling your Dad about our…new status."

"What! Oliver, what do you have to be afraid of? Dad's known you as long as I have, and he really trusts you."

"Exactly."

Miley blinked. "Huh?"

"I have no way of knowing how much of that trust is because of me and how much of it is just because, as far as he knows, we don't have any more-than-friendly inclinations towards each other. If he figures out that there's something more going on now, he might not let me be alone with you in your room or keep you out past a certain time or…"

"And what, pray tell, do you plan to do with me when we're alone in my room?" Miley asked with raised eyebrows.

Oliver blushed, which amused Miley. "Well, I don't mean,…you know,…THAT,…at least not yet" he fumbled slightly, "but still…I'd like to know we have someplace private so we can make out whenever we want."

Miley made a show of giving the matter its due thought. "Fair enough," she decided. "But we are going to have to tell him eventually."

"Right," Oliver nodded. "How does graduation sound to you?" he quipped.

Miley buried her face in his chest to stifle her lively chuckles. "Oliver…"

"Fine, fine. Senior prom, then."

Miley giggled. "Do you really think we can hide it for that long? I'm used to keeping a big secret WITH my father. I don't have a lot of experience keeping a big secret FROM him."

"I seem to recall a few incidents where you proved yourself quite skilled at keeping your dad snowed."

"Fine," Miley conceded. "But I'm not walking up to my father at graduation and saying, 'Oh, by the way, Oliver and I hooked up a couple years ago, and we've been a couple ever since. Just thought you'd like to know.'"

Oliver stroked her shoulder gently, and Miley resisted the urge to moan softly. "Do you really think we'll be together that long?" he asked somewhat dreamily.

"I think the whole friends-first thing gives us an edge," she replied. "Don't you?"

"I think you're right." He looked into her eyes and silently realized how much he wanted it to be so. Caressing her upper arms gently, he added, "I hope so. I really do."

Miley nuzzled the crook of his neck. "I do too," she whispered before kissing him softly on the lips. She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. He gave her a gentle smile before gently gripping her head along the jawline and bringing her lips to his once more. She responded immediately, marveling at how the kisses she shared with him could be so sweet yet so sensual at the same time. She parted her lips and enclosed them around his upper lip while he did the same to her lower lip. The moan she had successfully restrained moments before escaped as Oliver began stroking the small of her back. She smiled in self-satisfaction against his lips, however, as she arched into him slightly and solicited a similar sound from her male companion. Their mouths interlocked fervently and repeatedly, their lips dancing violently yet gracefully to a tune only their hearts could hear. Their kisses now lacked any trace of platonic shyness, and yet they never became lustful. They remained the orchestrations of lust's truer, more durable, and more sublime cousin: love.


End file.
